XoFrnk||Frerard AU

When You Go, Would You Even Turn To Say

He was the love of my life. I needed him to survive and I couldn't feel happy without him. No amount of drugs and alcohol could fill the void that he left.

And trust me, I'd tried. I don't remember the last time I was sober. I tried to hide it though. For Mikey.

Although he seemed to be doing okay, he was barely home. He usually spent time at Pete's house; I'm happy that he does. Not just because of the drugs and alcohol, but because he and Pete were becoming... close. And by that I mean, I walked in on something I did not want to see.

Flashback to the day Gee went to Bert's.

"Mikey!?" I called out as I opened the door and ran upstairs. How could I be so stupid? And selfish? What if he got hurt or needed to talk or something?

I ran up the stairs at lightening speed, praying that nothing had happened to him. I knocked on his bedroom door and panicked when I heard no reply.

"Mikey, are you in there?" I cried out to him, fear flooding my emotions. I pressed my ear to the door and heard nothing. I opened the door; I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I'd found him on the floor passed out.

I did find him on the floor, but he wasn't passed out- although I was close to it.

He was laying on the floor underneath Pete, who had him pinned down by the arms and was grinding against his hips.

I was not going to wait around to find out what happened after that and turned around and ran as quickly as I could, feeling like I was about to throw up.

At least he wasn't in trouble and had someone he was close with- I just really did not want to see how close he was with him.

End of flashback

So after that horrifying memory crossed my mind, I needed something to drink. Alcohol didn't help anything, but the physical illness the next made me focus on something other than what was going on inside my head and I needed that desperately.

I rummaged around my cupboards and found a large bottle of vodka. That was exactly what I needed, strong and something that would physically burn when I drank it.

I took off the cap and began to drink, swallowing the liquid in large gulps and relished he burn that it left. I drank until there was about half a bottle left and realised that it wasn't helping. I was still upset, I was still hurting and I could still hear all the thoughts that were running through my head. I couldn't do this anymore.

I stood up and walked to the bathroom, carrying the bottle with me. I had a sharp razor in there at all times. I found it on the side of the sink and grasped it tightly. It wasn't the first time I'd cut but I didn't do it often because it always leaves ugly scars, but it helps. Oh my god did it help clear my mind and stop the voices yelling at me?

I placed the bottle down carefully and sat on the floor, leaning against the small bathtub that was placed in the corner of the room. I held the razor to my arm, about halfway up. I didn't want to kill myself; just stop all my thoughts taking over.

I glided the razor across my skin, directly over an old scar that had healed and almost faded. I hissed at the pain and watched as the thin line filled with blood. I repeated the action again, and again, and again, and again.

My arm was covered in blood, and the pain that was there was amazing. All I could think about was how much it burned. I loved it. Having the ability to think about how much of a failure I am was addicted. I could see how Frank did it.

Frank.

Fuck.

Frank had self-harmed before.
That thought haunted me more than any other. What if he had done it again?

I stood up so quickly that I got head rush, which also wasn't helped by the loss of blood, and searched through my cupboard for a first aid kit; I always had at least one in every room since Dad started abusing us. The last thing that I wanted was for him to attack Mikey and me not to be able to help him.

When I found the one in the bathroom, I took out the bandages and wrapped up my arm. There was a lot of blood as there was a lot of cuts but they weren't deep so they stopped pretty quickly. I picked up the bottle of vodka again and took another drink. Why was I rushing? If he was going to hate me, he wouldn't answer the door to me. I'd get his attention another way.

I made my way to the bedroom and threw on a hoodie; I didn't want him to see those cuts. I took one final drink of the alcohol and left my house, trying not to stumble on the way.

Despite only going to his house twice, my body seemed to take me there on its own. Time seemed to go by at twice the speed as I arrived at the path outside his. I was not ready. There was so much that I wanted to say to him. How I was sorry that he had to see that happen, and how much I missed him when he left me alone. But most of all, how angry I. He had abandoned me and left me alone. That was selfish. He was selfish. And a coward; he needed to face me.

I picked a small rock up off the floor, throwing it at Frank's window, not caring about the other people in his apartment. I saw him look out of the window but do nothing else but roll his eyes. This pissed me off- how dare he leave me alone and as soon as I try to make up with him, he ignores me.

"Coward!" I yelled up to him. This got his attention. He opened the window and looked out of it with an annoyed look on his face.

"You're such a fucking coward! You're just hiding away because you can't deal with how you feel about me! Well, maybe you wouldn't be so fucking scared if you actually spoke to me instead of sending those stupid fucking notes!" I screamed at him. I needed to get it all out. He needed to know what I think.

I heard him slam the window with such force that I could hear it and saw him disappear. Great. Fucking amazing, now he had left me again.

I waited a few minutes until I saw the door open. The force that it was opened with was extraordinary; for such a small guy he was insanely strong. He was pissed, the look on his face was dark and showed pure rage.

"How fucking dare you, Gerard Way? How dare you come to my house at 3 in the fucking morning, pissed out of your brain and start yelling at me? And start yelling things that are obviously fucking sensitive to me? And you have no right to call me a coward: I'M the one who has saved your ass countless tunes from Billie, I'M the one who took you to the hospital knowing that someone could see me and do the same thing, I'M the one who saved YOUR brother when they found he was related to you. And I hurt Gerard. I hurt a lot. I felt things- I still feel things- that I have never felt before. But I faced those fears; instead of drowning those fears in drugs and alcohol and sleeping with strangers. So if anyone here is a coward, then it's you!" He screamed at me.

This had obviously sobered me up and I was thinking clearly. Maybe too clearly because I could think of was how he hated me. If he hated me, then what I was about to do wouldn't make a difference to him.

"Oh yeah?" I shouted back "If I was so much of a coward, would I do this?"

I walked, almost ran towards him. I stopped when I was in front of his face and took it into my hands, before pulling him towards me, crashing our lips together.

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I'm really sorry that took so long to upload, there was so much I wanted to do in that but it needed to be perfect but oh well, here it is